Love Is Pain
by bexxweet
Summary: Tate was watching her for weeks. He was ready to do what he does best, but has he met his match? This one wouldn't be so easy. Mainly Tate/OC, but most of the Murder House characters are also involved. Written from each character's POV. {Rated M for possible future themes - sex, drugs, violence, self harm.}
1. Chapter 1

I looked into his eyes and realised I had done something that I swore to myself I'd never do. I had fallen in love. I was completely and utterly in love with the dead boy with the messy blond hair and the huge dark eyes. The dead boy who made me feel more alive than I ever had been before I met him. The dead boy who was everything to me.

He leant forward and kissed my forehead, one hand pulling me closer to him, one hand holding my head against his chest. I fit in his arms like a jigsaw puzzle. We were meant to be. I could feel it every time we were together. I thought about what I had before I met him, my dreams, everything that I ever promised myself. None of that mattered now. He changed everything.

"Are you ready, Ells?", Tate whispered in my ear.

I felt something, and I couldn't reply to him. I couldn't get any words out.

There's not much you can say when there's a cold silver gun against the side of your head.


	2. Chapter 2 - Home Sweet Home

I threw my last suitcase into my new room and dived onto the bed to take a good five minutes to stare at the ceiling. When I decided to move from living with my mother in England to living with my dad in LA, I straight up imagined the beach. I wanted to strut around in a bikini and tan like a goddess. I didn't imagine a old house from the 1920's, far out from the beach, filled with college kids. Not at all.

My dad's a good guy. When I was a little girl, I remember him saying to me; 'You only get back what you put into the world'. I never thought much of it, but now I'm older, I appreciate how much of a great man he is. He bought this old house for pretty much next to nothing. He started letting college kids with no dorm or accommodation stay here, free of charge. You'd think that'd attract all sorts of trouble, but suprisingly it doesn't. Buy an apparently haunted house, and only the desperate kids stay here. The kids with nowhere else left to go. My father used to be a teacher, he still believes education is the most important thing in the world, to the point he lets all these random kids stay in his home. I guess he bought it for the future generations. Dad said if there was any troublemakers, they'd leave on their own within a few days. That they were probably bored here. He wouldn't say any more, but my guess is, this house is scary as shit. And that fascinates me.

An hour later and my Dad is shouting up the stairs.

"Ariella? Ariella? If you've finished unpacking, Moira's prepared food! You can come and meet your new friends!"

Goddamnit. I love my dad, but he's so damn happy about _everything._I love how he automatically assumes I'm going to be friends with these complete strangers. The last thing I want to do is talk and pretend like I give a fuck. I took a couple more hits on the joint I was smoking until I _really_ felt it, stubbed the rest out on the ash tray next to my bed and stumbled downstairs. Luckily for me, there was only two girls sat in the kitchen.

"Sweetheart", my dad beamed a smile at me. "This is Hayden, and this is Leah. I'm afraid I'm not sure where everybody else is. I'm sure the girls will make you feel right at home, I just need to pick a few things up from across the road, but I'll be back in five, okay?"

Hayden sat there with a smile that I knew was fake, but I'm not sure if my dad could see past it. "Sure Mr. Francis, we'll be sure to see she settles in _just fine_".

He smiled back at Hayden, gave me a quick hug, and he had gone. What a welcome. As soon as my dad left the house, the smile on Hayden's face had been wiped clean off. Her face was stone. She even _looked_ like a bitch.

"So. Why the sudden move here?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard. Your poor daddy has been here, with us, for a year, and you only just show your face? You're going to be an...'actress', are you not?"

"Well, hopefully, I mean I ha-"

"Because you're not going to make it. Sure, you've got the long blonde hair, the big blue eyes, but you're fucking ugly under that. Look at the size of your thighs. Look at your fucking nose -" She was interrupted by Leah sniggering next to her, and she smirked back, exchanging looks with Leah. "Face it honey, if that's why you're here, you're never going to make it. You're out of luck."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had known this girl a whole of two minutes and she was ripping into every little thing about me. I did the only thing I knew what to do. Be a bitch right back. I walked up to her, about to think of some great comeback off the top of my head, then I caught a glimpse of the bowl of spaghetti in front of her. So I spat right in it. Looked right into her eyes.

"Fuck you."

Then I casually turned my back and walked away, back upstairs. She didn't say anything. Either did the other girl. I didn't turn back to look at their faces, inside I was fucking terrified for what she might have done to me, but I didn't think. I never do. I just need to show them my exterior. The front that I put on. That they shouldn't fuck with me.

**TATE'S POV**

She couldn't see me, but I could see her. I watched her from the minute she got here. She's mysterious, mysterious and beautiful**. **I was thinking about living up to my reputation, it's been a while since I...killed anyone. The word 'killed' seems so permanent. Nobody's ever gone forever here. I know I'm going to do something, it'd be too easy. I was Mr Francis' first lodger, and he fucking loves me. It's like Dr. Harmon said a few years ago, psychopaths are incredibly sociable. Francis, the stupid old bastard, doesn't have a clue. He's letting us live exactly how we want. But the girl...I just can't decide whether to play around a little **before** I kill her. I still know where the rubber suit is.


	3. Chapter 3 - Meetings

As soon as I was out of Hayden's sight, I ran straight up to the bathroom next door to my bedroom. I looked into the mirror and stared at my reflection. I soon realised everything that Hayden said was right. I'm not pretty, I'm not perfect, my nose is big, and my thighs are huge. I've known this since I was 14 years old. I might have my hair straightned down to my hips, wear the studded leather, the black boots to make me 5 inches taller and the killer red lipstick, but that's the front you have to put on to survive all the bullshit in this world. I'm not as strong as I look. I never have been and I never will be, but if you pretend for long enough, then slowly, that's what you become. You become your image. Nobody has to know any different.

I looked at the black eyeliner running down my face, how red my eyes had suddenly become. What a mess I was. I lifted up my skirt and felt the scars on my thigh, the ones that had built up over the last four years. The last four years where everything has gone to shit. I opened the mirrored cabinet in the bathroom and pulled out the razorblade...another cut won't make a difference.

**TATE'S POV**

"You shouldn't do that to yourself."

She looked up at me with bewilderment, like a deer in the headlights. For a minute I thought she was going to cry ( - again, I could tell she already had been by the makeup running down her face...her precious face...) But then the bitch gave me the most disgusting look I've ever fucking seen.

"What the fuck are you doing in here you fucking creep?!"

"The door was open...my room's just there - I can use this bathroom too you know."

As I was saying that, she stood up, and by this point she was inches from my face. She looked **pissed.**

"Yeah, well don't you fucking _dare_ tell me what to do with my body. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

No, no no no no. It was too early for her to hate me. Not yet.

"I'm Tate. And I know how you feel." I gently lifted up my sleeves to show her the scars on my wrists. All of her anger disappeared from her face. She opened her mouth to say something, then, I don't know, changed her mind.

"Move out my way" she muttered under her breath, pushing me out of the doorway and stomped into her room. I wonder what she was going to say. Without even a minute's silence, I heard laughter behind me. Hayden. She had seen the whole thing, hidden from Ariella's sight.

"What the hell was that?" she said through her laughter. Hayden walked up to me and traced my scars with her fingertips, inching closer and closer towards me until I was backed up against the door frame. She moved her hands up to my face.

"Tate I -"

"Save it Hayden. Save it for Travis." I cut over her sarcastically, pushing her away from me just enough for her to nearly lose her footing. I walked back to my room, the one opposite Ariella's. I heard Hayden walking down the stairs, and I called after her before I was out of her hearing range.

"Hayden? The girl? She's mine."


	4. Chapter 4

The night when I met Tate in the bathroom was the night I cried myself to sleep. I hated what I'd become. I'd been so cruel to him when he was only looking out for me. I'd been _so cruel _and I'm not like that. There's a chance that Tate is the only decent human being in this house - if I'm quick to judge by my meeting with Hayden and Leah - and I've pushed him away already. When he showed me his scars, all I wanted was to grab his wrists, kiss those scars of his and tell him that everything would be okay. But I'd be a hypocrite and a liar if I said that, and I have a reputation to keep up. I don't let people in, not ever. So I cried all that regret away.

The next morning, I went downstairs for breakfast to see three people I hadn't met before. I sat quietly, eating, until I learned their names were Dallas, Fiona and Bianca. They tried to make small talk with me, they didn't really seem like bad people. Dallas kept looking at me in a way that totally creeped me out, and I could see that Fiona noticed. She kept nudging him and raising her eyebrows when he was staring at me for too long, but her smirk when she did so made me uneasy. Maybe he leches at all the girls. He broke his gaze when Fiona did this anyway, and he joined back into the two girls' conversation. It took me a while to notice that Tate was in the room, sat quietly by the door, staring at the bread and jam in front of him. He hadn't touched it. I didn't know how long he had been there, I was too intrigued by the three new faces. I didn't have the guts to speak to him and I was pretty sure that I had scared him off too after last night. I decided to accept the fact that I'd potentially lost a real friend.

**TATE'S POV **

I watched Ariella as she sat at the table, hardly saying two words to the degenerates sat around her. She even looked beautiful in the morning, with no makeup on and her long blonde hair scraped into a ponytail. I could see Dallas eyeing her up and down, it made me feel fucking sick, the look in his eyes when he looked at her bare skin. Her soft, smooth, pale skin...I wanted to run my hands over her skin...touch her..._cut her. _Dallas wouldn't look at her ever again if I mutilated her beautiful face so only **I **would ever look at it in that way again. It took her a while to even notice I was in the room, and when she did, she still didn't say a word to me. She hates me already. Like all the pretty girls do. None of the pretty girls want to know Tate Langdon. My mind was screaming at me, the voices were screaming at me; _don't let this one go to soon, she's different. _So I listened to them, and as she was about to walk out of the kitchen, I grabbed her arm, and her eyes met mine, properly, for the first time.

"Ariella...I'm sorry for the way I acted last night...I had no right. I'm sorry."

She stared at me for a split second, our gaze never breaking. I didn't let go of her arm.

"It's okay. I just - just - just you - don't open closed doors again. I like my personal space. We cool?"

She have me a half smile, and I returned it.

"We're cool." I replied.

With that, she sauntered off without another word. I don't think she meant to, but her ass looked so hot, the way she walked in the tight pants she was wearing. Perfect. Somebody let out a long breath behind me, and spoke the exact words I was thinking.

"That ass. Perfect." Dallas sighed.

So I lost it. I grabbed him by his throat and kicked the bar stool from underneath him, pushing him against the refrigerator, and he was laughing, he wouldn't stop laughing, laughing in my face, even with my hand around his neck and the artery in my neck bulging from sheer anger.

"Don't you** ever **speak about her like that. Don't even look at her. Don't you fucking DARE do anything to her!"

"Tate, man, chill." Dallas said through his laughter. "I can look at her. I can look at her whenever I want. What exactly are you gonna do Tate? You can't stop a man's eyes when you can't even control your own. I'm not an idiot. I see the way you look at her too. I'm not saying I might not...slip up. Like you've slipped up so many times in the past. Don't get all macho on me now Tate. There's nothing that you can do to stop me, if I so wish to put my intentions into action, I will."

I realised he had a point, and as I was taking a moment to process all of this, he pushed me back, getting my hand away from this throat, and him away from the refrigerator.

"Don't be an asshole, Tate", Dallas said, smirking as he walked away, leaving me stood in the kitchen on my own. Exactly how I always ended up. On my own.

**ARIELLA'S POV**

After the incident in the kitchen, I went to speak to my father about the people living in this house. I had so many questions. I found him in his office, doing paperwork as usual, his glasses balanced on the end of his nose, his hands in his greying hair and a frown which I think was embedded into his face after all these years. He puts himself through so much stress, all for the happiness of those around him. As soon as he saw me, he pushed his glasses back up his nose and his frown turned into the biggest smile. He looked genuinely happy. I've never understood how he could manage to do that. When he smiles, it took years of his aging face.

"Ari, sweetheart, sit with me! Coffee?"

"Sure Dad", I barely even said that before he poured me a cup and pushed it towards the other end of his desk with an armchair waiting for me.

"Everything okay honey? You found a job yet? Or even better, any auditions?" he smiled.

I thought of what Hayden said. I'll never make it as an actress here.

"No auditions Dad. I'm...I'm giving it time first. Looking for a part time job to get money, like you said. I'll do that first. I just, I wanted to know about the people living here, y'know?"

My Dad chuckled to himself and poured himself a fresh coffee.

"Biscuit?"

"No thanks Dad. I just ate."

"There's a fair few living here isn't there?" Suddenly a worried look came across his face. "Is everything okay? You're making friends aren't you? It's only been a day, honey, if that's what it is -"

"No, everything's fine, I just wanted to know, y'know, what they're like and stuff, I mean I met a few people, Tate and Fiona and Bianca and..."

"Dallas? He's a good soul. I suspect he's gay, to be completely honest with you. Always hanging around with those two girls. Although I don't suppose he'll come out, Patrick and Chad are together, and I also suspect Dallas is afraid of showing his true colours, whilst on the other hand, Patrick and Chad do always argue and who knows wh-"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing, and my father looked confused for a split second.

"Dad, you're babbling again. I haven't met..Patrick and Chad, was it? Don't ask for my input on Dallas", I laughed again. I thought about how Dallas looked at me earlier. How creepy he looked. If my dad thinks he's a good person, I guess I'll go with it, but...definitely not gay.

"I just...I wanted to ask about Tate. He's the only person who's really made an effort to...welcome me, I guess."

"Tate's a good boy. I think he's a little misunderstood. He seems quiet, shy even. He doesn't seem to get on well with the others. I'm not sure why, it's not my place to pry too far into the personal lives of my house guests. I'm glad he's welcomed you in honey, he may seem strange but I think he's good at heart. You'd do well to find a friend in him. I think I prefer him to the others, but don't tell them that", Dad replied, giving me a wink.

His words reassured me so much. My father seemed to like the people who lived here, no matter what their flaws may be. They couldn't be all that bad if my dad thought highly enough of them to let them live in his home.

"Thanks, Dad", I said, kissing his forehead before I left.

I went to sleep smiling that night. Tate spoke to me that day. He saw past the crazy bitch fit I had at him, and he _spoke to me._I never thought he'd speak to me again. He's different from the others. I can tell he's got a history. Like me. He finds it hard to make friends. Like me. He's the kind of boy who's broken. Like me. As I lay in bed thinking about him, I realised how beautiful Tate was. I noticed when our eyes met in the kitchen that morning, that he has the most beautiful big brown eyes I'd ever seen. Almost black. The kind of eyes you could get lost in. The kind of eyes that tell a story. When he looks up at you from under his dirty blond hair...

**TATE'S POV**

I made sure I was unseen, and I went into Ariella's room. I sat on the desk chair opposite her bed, and I watched her as she lay there awake. She looks like my dream girl. I don't give a fuck about her personality, I don't have the time or patience. I just **want** her. She got up, put Nirvana's _Nevermind_ album on her stereo as loud as it would go, and locked her bedroom door. Locking us both in there, and anyone else out.

I stayed still in the chair, not taking my eyes off her for one second as she started to touch herself. The music playing...my favourite band...watching her bite her lip and moan with pleasure. I sat watching, listening, as I heard her whisper my name to herself.

"Tate...Tate La-...La- Tate Langdon..."

I felt myself get hard as I watched her coming close to an orgasm whilst the guitar solo in _In Bloom _was playing. I closed my eyes and smiled as I put my hand on my cock. I liked this girl more and more each minute.


	5. Chapter 5 - Crimson & Clover

A week passed, and all that time, I couldn't stop thinking about Tate. I didn't even know why. I had two conversations with him, both lasting an average of two minutes, and one of those wasn't one I was keen on remembering. I had got myself a part time job in a small retail store, partly for the money, partly to get me out of the house more. I hadn't made friends with anyone I lived with, it's all small talk between us. Even with Tate. It's not that I didn't want to speak to him, because I did, more than anything, but I still didn't trust many people in the house. I didn't want to let my guard down, and that's what kept me from Tate. My own damn pride.

It'd been a slow week, but luckily for me, I discovered that one of the guys who works at the store, Ben, was a fucking drug dealer. Seriously. It was a slow day, when he casually walks up to me and whispers, _'need a line?', _like it was the most normal thing to do in your damn workplace. It'd been way too long since the last time I lost myself in a vial of meth or a line of coke. And I fucking **thrived** on that shit. I became everything I wanted to be. I sat on the gazebo in the yard, tracing the small bag in the pocket of my leather, filled with the beautiful white powder. I'd missed it. More than anything. Thanks Ben. But I'd save it for later, so I sparked the joint behind my ear and became lost in my thoughts. All of them about Tate. I wanted him to want me.

* * *

**TATE'S POV**

"You still staring her out?" Dallas questioned, as I stared out the window looking at the girl I craved so badly. "You know, I've been thinking about making her a permanent resident here, if you catch my drift. Dress her up as a damn nurse."

It was his last sentence that would have made my heart stop if it was still beating. I span around to face him.

"Are you being fucking serious? Don't be a fucking idiot Dallas. It's not time. We need time."

"How much time do you want? We've lived with this decrepit old man for so fucking long, I want a new family, but I wanna keep her, keep her here with us, Tate, that's all I want. If I just _kill _her..."

"Don't you realise we've never had it so fucking good with this 'decrepit old man'? We're passing as _the living. _We can do whatever the hell we want and we don't need to worry about a thing. She's going to stay here, Dallas. I assure you. But **I'm** going to be the one to do it, and she's not going to be dressed a nurse for your sick fucking fantasy. Give it _time_."

"Hold the fuck up Tate. **MY** sick fucking fantasy? You can't say shit about fantasies. You're a piece of shit hypocrite Tate, that's what you are. Stop acting like she's yours. She's not interested in you, or she'd be with you now, not sat out there on her own. I might go and see her, give her a little company..."

That's when I couldn't stop laughing. To the point where I was crying with laughter. Dallas was looking at me like I was on some kind of hallucinagenics. I wanted to tell him how she pleasures herself thinking about me. How she moans my name. Not interested in me? Okay, sure. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction yet. I managed to get myself together, and calmly looked at Dallas.

"Maybe I am a hypocrite. I mean I have been thinking about all the things I could do. Fuck her from behind, dump my cum in her then slit her fucking throat whilst she's still bent over. Skin her pretty face off so I could keep it, kind of like a souvenir I guess? But then she'd stuck here forever, with no face, and I wouldn't want to fuck her so badly anymore. Which I'm not gonna lie, is one of the reasons I wanna keep her here...her Dad would probably catch on that she was dead too, if her ghost didn't have a fucking face, then he'd leave, and we'd be fucked, so I'm rethinking that plan. Which kinda sucks, because man, I was _really_ looking forward to that. But anyway. I wouldn't go and see her, Dallas, if I were you. My guess is, she hates you even more than she hates me. And like you said, she **really** fucking hates me."

I flashed Dallas my best 'psychopath smile', the one you wear when you're rocking backwards and forwards, just kinda showing that you're fucking nuts. So he left, and he didn't go and speak to Ariella. I love getting my own way.

* * *

I was sat on my bed that same night when I heard music playing from Ariella's room. Another song I knew, _Crimson and Clover _by Joan Jett. She liked her old music and I liked her for that. My intentions that night were completely innocent. We hadn't had a real conversation in a week, so I went to her room just to make her like me more, to talk about all the bands that we mutually liked. Her door was half open to begin with. She was in front of the dressing table, the one with the mirror, her eyes closed, wearing nothing but the towel she had just exited the shower with, swaying to the music playing. I didn't even realise I was staring until she sensed my presence and span around to look at me. Shit.

"Before you say anything...the door wasn't closed so...I wasn't _'opening closed doors_'", I attempted a shy smile at her, I knew she'd go crazy for staring at her while she danced around near enough completely naked. Instead, she just smiled, and slowly walked over towards me. Then I noticed her eyes. Her pupils. She was _fucked._

**ARIELLA'S POV**

"You wanna _close_ the door, then?" I replied.

"Oh...I'm sorry. Yeah...sure." Tate murmured as he began to turn back to his room. God, this guy didn't get the picture. I grabbed his arm and whispered;

"No, Tate. With you on _this side."_

His face didn't change, but as I pulled him into my bedroom, he slammed the door behind him, and I could see his dark eyes glimmering, speaking to me...

"So, Joan Jett huh? I've always liked her mus-"

I didn't want fucking small talk from him.

"Do you think I'm sexy, Tate?"

"Wha-"

"Do you want to fuck me, Tate?"

I moved in closer to him, pushing his body against the door and my body against his, putting my arm around his to lock the door, and putting my weight against him, I repeated myself,

"_Do you want to fuck me, Tate?" _I whispered in his ear. I was so close to him that I could feel his hard dick pressing against me.

"You're on _drugs_, Ari, I can tell...do you really...do you really want-"

"What, you want some too baby?" I teased, reaching over for the bag of coke laid on the drawer dresser. I dipped my finger in and ran some more across my gums. Tate looked at me, looked at the bag, looked back up at me, and did the same, smiling at me as he did it in the sexiest way I've ever seen.

"I'll ask you one more time," I said, unfastening Tate's belt and sliding my hand down his jeans so I could feel his huge cock throbbing for me. I leant back in closer to him. "Do you want to _fuck me, _Tate?"

He didn't say anything, but I stared into Tate's eyes as I felt his hands gliding over my spine, my collarbones, my chest...I dropped the towel I was wearing and he took a minute to observe, looking me up and down, a dark smile creeping over his face.

He grabbed both my arms and in a jolt, switched places so I was the one pushed up against the door, and taking his shirt off, he ran his hands over my body, and I returned that to him. I felt Tate's hands on my breasts, his fingertips tracing my nipples, his other hand going down to touch me, and I was already wet for him. That smile of his came back when he noticed this, and he slowly began stroking my pussy, every couple of strokes putting his fingers in to tease me. I closed my eyes, biting my lip as he put his fingers in deeper. I grabbed his hair in one hand, my other arm around his neck, clawing at his bare shoulders as his fingers ran around my clit. Letting out the breath that I had been holding in, I opened my eyes, meeting his. The drugs had made them darker, not just in colour but the very essence of his soul shining through them. The darkness. It just made me want him more.

I was losing myself in his eyes as he got closer and closer to my g-spot, when he lifted me up by my legs, throwing me onto the drawer dresser where the bag of coke laid. As he positioned himself in between my legs, wildly taking off his jeans and boxers as fast as he could, Tate took a look at the bag of coke, and with no questions, took a pinch and snorted it, taking a moment to keep sniffing it up his nose, his face expressionless but his eyes wild. I followed suit, using my pointed nails to scoop some up and let it take me over. I didn't have time to make a line. I didn't hardly have time to sniff my pinch before Tate's cock was inside me, him pushing my chest down so I was laid flat along the dresser, fucking me so hard, so fast, that the dresser was banging against the wall, louder and louder, so everyone could hear, but I didn't care. Every thrust Tate made felt so _good _inside me. I tried to lift my upper body up, to put my arms around his neck, to feel his body against mine, but he grinned, grabbing my hair in one hand and my neck in his other, and dragged me onto my bed metres away. His hand still firmly grasping my hair, Tate pushed me face down onto the bed. I couldn't see him, but I heard his breathing getting heavier, the weight of his body on top of me as I laid there helpless. I still wanted him.

"_Stay_", he whispered sternly in my ear, as he slowly entered me from behind. His hand on my neck, his hips moved faster, smacking against me as I heard him grunting with pleasure. I moved my face to the side so I could breathe, and catching glimpse of his face, Tate still had the same expressionless look on his face. The same wide crazy eyes, not blinking, not moving from my ass as he fucked me. He saw me looking at him, and he grabbed my hair again, pushing my head down so I couldn't see him. He knew where my clit was now, and as he fucked me, he rubbed it faster and faster until my back was arched and my legs were shaking underneath him. Simultaneously, we both came, and Tate rolled off me, laying on his back next to me on the bed, panting, small beads of sweat on his forehead. He still looked beautiful to me.

**TATE'S POV **

I stared at the ceiling as I got off her, wiping my brow of the sweat that had accumulated. It had been a while. I looked over at the girl laid next to me, her eyes closed, smiling, unable to catch her breath after her orgasm. I don't know why I didn't kill her then and there. Like I had planned. Like I had thought about doing for the past week. I just never thought I'd get this chance to do it. That _she_ would come on to _me_...I could have had her exactly how I wanted her. It was 4am and Ariella had pretty much fallen straight asleep after we finished. I watched her as she slept, her smile still there. She only smiled properly when she slept. I broke out of my daydream and all of a sudden, paid attention to the music in the background. The entire_ 'I Love Rock 'N' Roll' _album had played in it's entirety (god knows how many times) in the time we had been fucking, and _Crimson & Clover _was playing again. I laid next to Ariella, running my fingers through her long blonde hair spilling out onto the pillow next to me, and I listened to the lyrics, properly, for the first time.

_ah, now I don't hardly know her,_

_but I think I could love her _

_crimson and clover_

Suddenly, I knew why I didn't kill her.

Thanks Joan.


End file.
